Growing Up with Soul
by queen-korri
Summary: After the battle on the moon, Soul gets back in touch with his family. Even after learning to believe in his talents and gaining confidence in himself, they're still as much as a pain in the ass as before.
1. That Time When Nan Visits

_**That one time Nan came from Italy just to rip Soul a new one because he missed their weekly call. Nan meets Maka, hilarity ensues.**_

It had been a year or so after the battle on the moon and the coronation of Kid becoming a fully realized Shinigami that Soul began to speak to his family regularly again. He and his brother kept a sparse correspondence throughout the scythe's training years, but otherwise, Soul never even saw so much as an email from his ever so loving parents nor from anyone else a part of the Evans or Bellini (his mother's side of the family) clan.

Well. That wasn't entirely true.

There was one person he kept in touch with.

And that was his beloved Nan.

Nan was his mother's mother and she was the sweetest yet most kickass old lady to ever live and she'd never let anyone forget it. Nan was the type of grandmother who continuously worried if her "sweet babies" were being fed enough and then proceeded to forcefully stuff her home made cannolis down her grandkids throat if they refused. Soul had learned that the hard way.

Soul loved the woman dearly.

So, he couldn't say he wasn't pleasantly surprised when he found his Nan smiling brightly up at him outside his and Maka's apartment.

"Nan!" Soul exclaimed. "What are you doing here?" he asked, before hurriedly following up his question with, "Not that I'm not happy to see you. Because I am." He smiled warmly. "Death, it's been so long."

His grandmother briefly gave him an odd look at his word usage (spending his adolescent years and then some with Death Children surely took a toll on his language) before she took his hand. Her grip was firm and warm, just how Soul always remembered. "You didn't call." She stated matter of factly, "I was so worried, I hopped on the next flight to the states to see what could have stopped my youngest grandchild from having his weekly conversation with me."

Soul knew that look she was giving him. It was that same look she gave him whenever he wouldn't confide in her and he felt the crush of guilt like the weight of a falling building.

His Nan had come all the way from _Italy to Nevada_ just because he missed one of her weekly calls. He loved the woman dearly but this was a little extreme.

But, he was still incredibly excited that she had decided to visit.

"I just wanted to see my little soul eater again~" She cooed, hugging him tightly. Soul returned the embrace, taking in the scent of expensive cappuccino and the Mediterranean sea.

"I missed you, Nan," he admitted, his face nuzzled in her snowy hair, a tint grayer than his own.

"Oh, really?" She retorted in that signature sarcastic tone of hers, her thick accent doing nothing to cover it. "Then what happened to our arrangement?" she asked as she made her way into his abode, a tote bag in hand and two other matching suitcases waiting patiently on the welcome mat (Maka's idea).

Oh shit.

Was Nan planning to stay over?

Crap.

Maka was gonna kill him. They hadn't cleaned up in a while.

"Sorry, Nan," her grandson apologized sheepishly as he grabbed her other luggage and lugging it into the living room (what the hell did she have in there?) "We were on a mission this week in Africa, I didn't have any reception."

The tiny woman was perusing through a few photos placed on a bookcase, when she asked, "Oh?" She pointed to a pretty green eyed blonde in a group photo with all of their friends. "You and your… oh what's the term… meister? Is this her?"

Soul looked over her shoulder, which barely reached the middle of his torso (Death, puberty had been good to him) and smiled warmly. "Yeah, that's Maka, my meister."

If his Nan took notice of the way he had sighed "my meister" (which she totally did) and the dreamy look in his eye she didn't say anything. She only gave her beloved grandson that knowing and wise grandma look.

"Hey, Soul?" A groggy, feminine voice mumbled from Soul's room, before its owner opened the door and appeared clad in only Soul's old AC/DC t-shirt and sinfully short sleep shorts. "Who's at the door?" she asked tiredly, her small hands rubbing at her eyes.

It was rare for Maka to sleep in, but the mission in Africa had taken a toll on the both of them. They had returned only yesterday and they were both so exhausted that they barely had the energy to change into pajamas. They both plopped into Soul's queen sized bed (growth spurts had their perks) afterwards, and were asleep before their heads hit the pillow.

"Oh, you must be Maka!" Nan's face lit up and because the woman was full of so much love she made her way over to the barely awake blonde and hugged her tightly, yet softly in the only way his grandmother could.

Maka, surprised, hugged the woman back awkwardly as she eyed Soul. He mouthed the words, "my grandmother" and her confusion lifted, but only slightly.

The older woman backed away, her laugh deep and rich, "Oh, where are my manners?" She beamed brightly and Maka already loves the woman. "I'm Soul's grandmother, but you can call me Nan."

Shit.

 _Shit._

Nan really liked Maka and she had _just met her_ , which is what usually happened when most people met his partner, but this was _Nan_.

If Nan liked her, then he was fucked. This meant that Maka really was the one for him and not some stupid crush that had overstayed its welcome in his heart. It was a proven fact that if Nan approved of a potential or current partner of any of her relatives, they were sure to get married. Nan was magic like that, his own parents were proof of this theory.

"Hi, Nan," the sound of Maka's tinkling voice knocked Soul out of his shocking revelation, "I'm Maka, Soul's meister." Her eyes roamed toward his own, before she smiled smugly, "And self- proclaimed best friend."

Soul chuckled, happy that Maka seemed okay with his Nan's impromptu visit and not sending him death glares about the (barely there) mess in their kitchen.

"I'm so sorry to just drop in like this," the older woman apologized sincerely, "but, my grandson didn't inform me that you two were on a mission and missed one of our weekly calls." The petite woman glared at said grandchild before her face melted into a smile she aimed at the young woman in front of her. "I figured that would be a good enough excuse to visit my _tesero_." She cooed adoringly at her grandson, moving away from Maka to reach up and pinch his cheeks.

"Naaaaaan," The shark toothed teddy bear whined, blushing brightly. His Nan hadn't pinched his cheeks since he was five, she was just trying to embarrass him.

Maka giggled, the tactic working effectively, before she noticed the creme colored luggage propped near the couches.

"Oh!" Maka piped in. "Do you plan on staying long in Death City?" Maka asked, her head tilted slightly, looking much like a confused pup. "Were you able to find a hotel? Do you need somewhere to sleep?"

Soul noticed the sly smile on his grandmother's face before she "innocently" admitted that she had forgotten to make sleeping arrangements due to the trip's improptuness.

"Oh, Soul!" The sprightly meister began, her enchanting green eyes set on his face. "She can sleep in my room! It's not like I sleep much in there anymore, we'll just share your bed."

At that, Nan gave Soul a look, her smile smug and her eyes devious.

"Oh, thank you dearie! That's quite kind of you."

In the back of his head, Soul was sure that this was the recipe for disaster. His meister and his Nan under one roof? Did he want to die of embarrassment? But this was his grandmother he was talking about here, his sweet, kickass, pastry-making, Italian grandmother who he had been missing dearly. So, really, what was the worst that could happen?

* * *

It was decided that Nan would stay as a guest in the Evans-Albarn household for a week.

Soul loved the woman but what was she trying to do to him, really? Each day it was something different.

On Monday, she told stories about her pudgy _polpetto_ to Maka, officially killing him dead. His cause of death? Complete and utter embarrassment.

On Tuesday, Maka and Soul took Nan on a tour of Death City. Nan whispered in Soul's ear, asking him which spots did he become most intimate with Maka. Soul squawked and was very disappointed that his sweet grandma even thought of such things.

On Wednesday, while Maka was out, Nan blatantly asked when was she going to be granted some great-grand kids. Soul promptly spat out his drink and gently reminded his grandmother that he was barely eighteen. The older woman informed him that she's not demanding them right now. She just wanted to know when she could expect a green-eyed _mimmo_. Soul could only groan and think, _'Not you, too, Nan…"_.

On Thursday, Soul and Maka were in his room getting ready for bed and all of a sudden his grandmother began to sing an Italian love song. The former opera singer crooned about new love and fiery passion and Maka swayed slightly to the music of Nan's voice. "Your grandmother sings beautifully, Soul." He blushed deeply and could only thank Death that Maka had no idea what his grandmother was saying.

On Friday, the day before Nan was set to leave, Maka and Soul took her out to the fanciest restaurant in Death City. When they got there, Nan exclaimed that she had forgotten something at the apartment. Catching on to his grandmother's game, he offered to drive her back (they had to rent a car during her stay, Soul refused to have his grandmother riding on his motorcycle, despite how adamant she was that getting around on the bike would be fine.). Nan, however, had already called a car service and knew where the spare key was. They waited fifteen minutes for her to return before they ordered something to eat. She never came back. Maka was extremely worried ("Soul, what if something terrible happened to your grandmother?!") but Soul reassured her that Nan probably just fell asleep, knowing that his grandmother left them alone on purpose. When the two asked for the check they found that everything was already payed for.

* * *

Saturday morning, Nan made them a huge breakfast and she had cannolis cooling in the fridge.

"Eat up, _amore mios_!" Nan wiped her hands on the apron, (which she was very amused to find that Soul owned one.) "I made more than enough!"

Maka eagerly dug into the fruit of Nan's labor and barely contained her moan of pleasure. "Oh, Nan!" She tittered, covering her mouth out of propriety. "This is delicious!"

Soul bit into his own food, and quickly agreed with his meister's assessment. Nan always made the best pancakes.

"I know how hard you two must work," the sweet woman cooed. "Must build energy for all that rigorous exercise, am I right?" Nan placed herself between Maka and her grandson, who she was eyeing suggestively. Soul could only wonder what she was hiding up her designer sleeves.

Nan turned to the young woman on her right, her hand placed on her chest, "And I'm sorry if I interrupted you two this week." To Maka, Nan seemed very sincere in her apology, but Soul knew better. He could sense that cunning tone her voice. He just wished he knew what she was doing, his sweet, "innocent" grandmother had been surprising him all week. "I do not want to be a hindrance to you, at all!"

"Oh, it's no worry Nan!" Maka placed her hand on top of the sliver haired woman's own. "But we really didn't have anything planned this week." She admitted, wanting to rid Soul's caring grandmother of her concern. "What would you have interrupted?"

Soul looked towards his grandmother, her face lifted into a blinding smile. _'Wait…'_ He thought. _'She wouldn't…'_

"Why dear, your se-"

"TRAINING!" Soul yelled loudly. She would, _of course she would._ The last Death Scythe had forgotten how blunt the old woman could be.

"She was worried about interrupting our training," Soul glared at his grandmother, trying his hardest not to cower in the heat of her gaze. " _Right, Nan?_ "

Nan's only response was to tug sharply on his ear. "Use your inside voice, Soul," she scolded.

Maka giggled as Soul begged his grandmother to let go of his ear. She paid him no mind and went on to say, "There are very few places that it is acceptable to use a raised voice." She paused for dramatic effect and smiled smugly at him. "One of them is the bedroom."

Maka gasped loudly before falling into an uncontrollable fit of laughter.

Soul thunked his head on the table and moaned.

"The bedroom is also an appropriate place for that, as well."

Soul would _never, ever, as long as he lived_ forget to call his Nan again.

* * *

Tesero means darling/treasure

Polpetto means meatball

Mimmo means baby

Amore mios means my loves


	2. That Time When Soul Goes to France

Alrighty, here's the next installment of my beloved fic! Wanna shout of to K, the peeps in the resbang chat and hidding-in-shadows even if she is a shit.

 _ **That one time Soul and Maka are on a mission in Le Cannet, France and are tricked into going to a family reunion held at his grandparents house in Cannes**_

Missions located near his family always made him nervous. Several weeks after what Soul liked to call "The Nan Fiasco of Death City", Maka picked up a mission for a troublesome pre-kishin roaming the city of Le Cannet, France. This particular city just so happened to be incredibly close to Cannes, where his father's parents lived. So, when his meister told him that they would leave for France in a couple of hours, he froze, his thoughts going a million miles a minute. His initial fear was that maybe the kishin egg just so happened to make one of his family members one of it's victims.

The pre-kishin they were to hunt was called the _Wild Man_ by locals and the monster mostly targeted and killed young children. Soul could only hope that his face remained calm during the briefing and that the rapid tapping of his fingers didn't give away how incredibly worried he was. The faces of his youngest cousins, all bright, full of life and who loved to run through the winding streets of the city.

Soul hadn't talked to God since he met Death, but he prayed that his younger family members were alright.

He and Maka focused solely on the mission for the next few hours, their time on the plane was spent looking over crime reports and sightings of the _Wild Man_. The death scythe was incredibly interested in the listing of victims that came with the files, and breathed a sigh of relief when the name Evans was nowhere to be found. Maka noticed his odd behaviour but accounted it to the nature of the crime. What sick fuck took pleasure in luring children into the forest and killing them? She could understand if Soul was a little off, she wasn't feeling much like herself either.

But they had a job to do.

And if it was done right, they nor anyone else would have to worry about the _Wild Man_ again.

* * *

Soul flopped onto one of the soft, lilac scented beds in the hotel room.

"Guuuh, I hate long flights." Soul's groan was muffled by the pillow smothered in his face, and he is _sooooo_ thankful for soft linens right now, he could fall asleep right here.

Maka dropped her luggage by the only other empty bed in the room (the one closer to the large window, Soul hated being woken up by natural light... or anything for that matter) before slamming her lithe (but heavy, _impossibly heavy_ ) body onto the sack of bones she called a weapon.

"Why?" he muttered curtly, it wasn't like his back was in pain or anything (curse his long legs and uncomfortable airplane seats).

"C'mon lazy ass," The ashy-blonde peeled herself away from him, a giggle in her throat. "We've got a corrupted soul to reap."

Soul turned over and was met with a face full of energetic meister. Her smile was dangerous and contagious making the scythe's blood sing.

They were the best team out there, and they were going to show this kishin egg why Maka "Motherfuckin'" Albarn and The Last Death Scythe Soul "Eater" Evans were not to be messed with.

* * *

"Can you sense him?"

Maka was perched atop a large building over looking the city; however, she paid no attention to to the breathtaking scenery around her. The scythe meister had her eyes closed and was facing the forest behind the city where many sightings were said to have taken place. Her light eyebrows bunched together in concentration, her soul reaching out for the damaged one that roamed the outskirts of the city.

"There."

And like that, she was off, leaping from rooftop to rooftop, her feet pounding on the pavement at an almost inhuman speed. She only stopped running when she found herself deep in the forest.

And she plunked herself down in the middle of the forest floor, and sat.

"Maka?" Soul's tinny voice questioned, "What are you doing?"

"Quiet, Soul," the small blonde commanded. "Just listen."

It took a moment for Soul to realize what the lithe young woman had up her sleeve. She was just a sitting duck in this position (though not really, she still had a huge scythe clad in her hands). Her strong, creamy legs sprawled out and on display, her skirt hiked up a few inches. And then it hit the piano patterned scythe.

She was luring _him_.

This girl was going to be the death of him.

It was only a few minutes until the sound of rustling leaves drew closer to them. It was nearing towards the end of the day, but it was already so eerily dark in the forest. The creature slashed through branches, his glowing red eyes piercing through the murkiness.

There he was, the _Wild Man_.

He stood at a very impressive height on his ape like haunches. His fur was dreadfully black and matted, and his claws were _long_.

He was a child's nightmare come true.

"Looky, looky what do we have here~?" The creature drawled, his voice slimy. Maka stood, her face full of determination and scythe in hand.

The pre-kishin became visibly upset at the sight of the sharp and large weapon in the petite blonde's hand, being much too distracted by said blonde's legs to notice it's presence before. The lupine snout of the creature, snarled, peeved that his snack planned to put up a fight.

"I'm so disappointed," the corrupted soul growled deeply, "here I thought you were a little boy with an affinity for skirts who just happened to wander upon my wood~" The _Wild Man_ grinned dangerously as he blatantly gestured toward his crotch.

Maka's eyes slanted and her grip tightened on Soul's shaft.

"Oh, did I hit a nerve~?" He mocked

" _Wild Man,"_ her tone vicious _. "_ for kidnapping and eating the souls of young children" She stood from her seated position and crouched, her stance sturdy and Soul's blade menacingly sharp. "We'll be taking your soul."

The _Wild Man_ grinned, his sharp teeth glinting in the sunlight.

"Bring it on," he growled.

The meister-weapon pair and the kishin egg ran towards each other, meeting in a clash of lightning. With a strategic flick of her scythe, the W _ild Man's_ claws coming same off, hand and all.

His howl was hellish.

Maka grinned, the lift of her lower lip small, and her muscles hummed with adrenaline.

This is what she lived for.

* * *

Now that the corrupted soul of the _Wild Man_ resided in the seventh bowel of hell, also known as Soul's stomach, said weapon couldn't wait to get the fuck out of France.

It confused Maka that the her partner was so eager to leave, normally he'd kill for an extra night to stay in a hotel.

In fact, Soul had been acting weird this whole mission. He was much more quiet and reserved than usual, and that said something.

"Soul?" She stopped her scythe in his flurry.

Now that he was relieved of his fear that one of his baby cousins wouldn't fall victim to the disgusting thing that roamed in the forest he used to play with his brother in, he most certainly did not want to risk the chance of seeing anyone from his family.

He wasn't ready for that yet.

He only just started talking to his mom again ("Oi, thank _God_ , _mi mimmo_ , he has finally decided to call his mother!").

And don't even get him started on his Dad.

He could see his father in every nook and cranny of this damned city and it was _sickening him to his stomach._

"Are you okay?"

No.

No, he most certainly was not. He just wanted to _leave._

Before he could relay this to the green eyed girl sitting on his bed, who was looking at him with concern, his phone rang.

The white haired young man scrambled for the loud piece of technology and read the screen of his cellular device.

His eyes widened.

It was Wes.

Soul answered immediately, he told his older brother to only call him if it was an emergency, it was a part of their agreement. "Who died?" The deathscythe asked frantically, he began to pace. "Is Gram okay? It's not Pop is it?" Soul paused after he hadn't heard anything from his brother. "Holy shit. Wes, are _you_ okay?! Bro, please answer me."

"Soul."

Thank Death.

"Soul, did you leave for your mission in France, yet?" Wes asked somberly.

"Yes! Yes, I'm in France. Is everything okay?" Just when he thought everything would be okay and he wouldn't have to face his Dad or his side of the family for just a bit longer.

"Gram wants to see you."

Fuck.

"Send me your address, I'll have a limo pick you up."

 _Fuck._

"Dress nice."

 _ **Click.**_

It wasn't like Wes to sound so serious. Soul dropped his phone.

"Soul?" Maka was really worried now. What did Wes say to him?

"I-I… We… We have to go to my grandparents' house." The young deathscythe was caught up in his thoughts, surprised that he was even able to create coherent sentences at the moment.

"What happened?"

Soul looked so lost and Maka grabbed his hands, squeezing them tightly. The scythe swallowed thickly.

"Wes-Wes didn't say." His eyes finally found his way to her bottle green ones, irises full of concern for him. "He just said to dress nice and that he was sending a car to pick us up."

Maka squeezed his hands once more, before she pushed him off towards the room's bathroom. She picked up his unlocked phone, quickly texting their hotel address to the older Evans brother (whom she had only talked to once or twice during one of his conversations with Soul).

As she heard the shower head spout out a jet stream of water, she began to pull out a simple black short-sleeved shift with an open back, and Soul's suit to match, they were always prepared with nice clothes in case they were needed for political delegation on Kid's behalf.

Maka just hoped that their own clothing choice wouldn't be mixed in with a sea of dark hues and salty tears.

* * *

Maka looked incredibly pretty with her hair up in a bun.

Said blonde sat next to Soul in the stretch (really Wes? It was only the two of them) limousine, the space in the vehicle all consuming and soul emptying at the same time.

' _It's just a fucking car, Evans.'_ Soul scolded to himself. " _Get your shit together.'_

Soul dropped his head in his hands, pressing his palms into his eyes.

This was so fucked up.

When was the last time he even talked to his grandparents?

 _Fuck._

He kept hearing someone rapidly mutter the words "shitshitshitshitshit" and he gave an odd look to Maka before he realized that the expletives were spilling from _his_ mouth. The distressed white haired teen groaned, thunking his head on the seat.

How hard would he have to hit his head on the window for him to knock himself out?

The scythe jumped when he felt skinny, but strong arms wrap around his torso, before he relaxed and wrapped his own arm around his meister's shoulders.

"You always assume the worst, Soul," Maka whispered, her grip tightening.

She was right.

But _what else_ was he supposed to expect?

* * *

The limo finally pulled up to the large mansion overlooking the ocean, many others just like it, parked in front of and near the house (read: mansion).

' _No herse.'_ The weapon thought briefly to himself, he sighed. He could breath easy, _for now._

The driver opened the door, allowing the two passengers to leave the luxury vehicle. Once outside from the confinement of his long, black jail, Soul assisted Maka up from the cushioned seats of the limo. The meister reached for her weapon's hand, like she had every time before. But this was a different type of demon they were facing.

His grip was strong, so tight that a girl who wasn't trained to defeat nightmares and evil each day would crumple under the pain. But Maka just squeezed the tall boy's hand, looking up at him with a reassuring smile.

"Wherever you go, I'll follow."

Those words, the intention went both ways.

The young Evans man looked down into emerald fire and breathed deeply.

As the two walked up the winding staircase to the main doors, Soul felt himself being hit with the memory of his first day walking up the steps of Shibusen (though there were not nearly enough stairs and he wasn't thirteen, no matter how much he felt like a prepubescent boy.)

The two reached the top and stood in front of the door. Soul took an audible, shaky breath and raised a fist to the door, knocking politely. The large, intricately designed ivory doors were opened by two butlers, one young and the other with graying hair. Before either man could say a word, a flash of platinum blonde hair and a scheming grin pushed them out of the way and shoved the young man and woman inside.

"I'm so glad you could make it, little brother!"Exclaimed the tall (though shorter than Soul by an inch or two), effervescent man. His blue eyes sparkled as he babbled on, excusing himself to the butler he ran down to retrieve said younger sibling and his guest. His voice was charming and rich.

Maka could only guess that this was Wes, Soul' older brother.

The older man shoved the three star meister and her weapon towards the main room, which seemed to be full of Evans relatives.

 _Cheerful_ Evans relatives.

Soul was very confused.

Where were his crying aunties?

His somber faced uncles?

His younger cousins that'd look up confusedly because they didn't understand that something tragic had happened?

And that was when he caught sight of the decor and the elegant (but frankly, cheeky) banner that read, "Evans Family Reunion".

Soul was no longer confused.

Soul was _furious_.

 _'The bastard tricked me.'_

The younger Evans brother stopped walking and his brother crashed into his broad back, his meister's hand was still gripped in his own and she was also stopped in her tracks.

Soul glared at his brother, hoping that maybe, _maybe_ his brother would feel some sort of guilt for this most heinous of crimes.

"What's the hold up, little bro?" The elder sibling asked innocently, ignoring the foul look his brother was throwing at him.

Soul stared silently at him. Of course. His brother would have no remorse, _none whatsove-_

"Oh, I'm so terribly sorry!"

Okay, so maybe Soul was wrong.

"Where are my manners?"

Shoved up his ass somewhere, maybe.

"I'm Wes, Soul's older brother, I've heard you on the phone a couple of times." Wes had somehow made his way around his younger sibling and was raising Maka's free hand to his lips. "I must say you are much lovelier in person."

 _That little shit stain._

Wes's turned his attention back to Soul, chuckling happily at Maka's reaction to kissing her hand. "I am immensely happy that you decided to bring Maka, Soul! It'll be good for her to meet the family. Gram and Pop will love her, I'm sure!" The blue eyed man smiled charmingly.

He was gonna kill his brother in cold blood. He was so close to punching the shit out of him.

But, Soul was _supposed_ to be getting along with his family, he was _supposed_ to be opening up to his brother and slowly integrating himself back into his family tree.

Keyword being _slowly_.

Soul knew Wes was just trying to help, but he really needed to learn _his fucking boundaries._

"Where are Mom and Dad?" Soul asked simply, barely restraining himself from snarling out the question. He could start there. Because if their father was there, he was out. There was nothing that could make him stay, not even Maka, if there was a chance that Soul actually had to speak with his dad.

"Unfortunately," Wes began, "Our parents couldn't make it, Mom had a prior engagement and needed Dad to go with her." He nudged Soul's ribs playfully. "You know how they are."

Well, at least his Dad wasn't going to be there to ride his ass.

He was still incredibly pissed.

Soul grinned, the tips of his sharp teeth peeking out from his lips. "How unfortunate." He clapped his brother on the back, _hard._ Wes yelped in pain and Maka gasped, too shocked to reprimand her weapon for his heavy hand. "Well, we don't want to keep anyone waiting, do we?"

Wes coughed, regaining his posture and maintaining some distance away from his "little brother" (holy crap, when did he get so strong? Wasn't it enough that he was already shorter than him? He couldn't do this, he was getting old). "You're absolutely right." Wes gestured towards the room full of Evans. "Lead the way."

* * *

This was complete and utter torture.

Seeing his family again wasn't as bad he thought it would be. His Uncle Marius was still a drunkard who lived off the finest wine, his cousins were still trouble makers and his grandparents were still sweet if a bit reserved. The old couple was sitting on a dias overlooking their incredibly large family like royalty of which, they technically were (Soul's grandfather was an English duke who married a French baroness).

No, the real torture was seeing how well Maka and Wes got along.

A bit too well.

Wes was charming, mature and hilarious. He thrived in crowds and was well adjusted to social situations.

And his brother and his meister looked good together.

He knew his meister wasn't going anywhere, they had spent countless, moonless nights reassuring each other of this fact. But Wes always got the best things in life; Soul was an off-model cheap version of him. The knock-off. Why wouldn't Maka seek bluer skies? Or in this case, bluer eyes.

At some point, Soul released Maka's hand from his own and slinked off into a hallway, which led to another part of the mansion.

As Soul roamed the large house, a wave of nostalgia hit him as he reminisced the vacations he spent here with his family. That one time Soul nearly broke a very expansive bust. The times he and his mother cooked in the kitchen, no matter how much his grandmother insisted on having the cooks do the work. Eventually, Soul ended up in front of a very familiar room; it was the bedroom he slept in during the times his family stayed there.

The young man opened the door, immediately noticing the room had been renovated slightly. The bed was on the other side of the room, closer to the stained glass balcony door, the walls were now a springtime green, instead of a pastel blue and a white carpet had been installed over the wooden floors. Still, Soul felt at home here, the memories of he and his brother playing in this room, comforting each other during storms, those memories would stay forever, no matter how many times this room changed.

Soul sighed, closing the door behind him. He shed his suit jacket and tie, leaving both articles of clothing on the bed. He then made his way to the stained glass door, rolling up his unbuttoned sleeves as he slid the door open, the lights from the city below barely filtering in.

He took in the ocean air, briefly wishing that he snuck some champagne with him. Maybe then he could forget about the way Wes had his hand on his meister's waist.

"Soul?"

Speak of the devil.

The red-eyed man turned away from the calming sight of the ocean and the city that bordered it for the breathtaking (if not irritating) sight of Maka. He huffed, feining annoyance. "What do you have a sixth sense or something?"

Maka scoffed, crossing her arms after closing the door behind her, "You idiot. Does the ability to locate souls ring a bell to you? We've only done it a hundred times."

Ah, yes banter. Now, this he excelled at, he could do this. "Yeah, but I could've been in the bathroom." Soul retorted, a slight grin slipping on to his face.

She crossed the expanse of the room with those creamy white legs of hers and was by her scythe's side in a matter of heartbeats."Then, you would've locked the door."

Soul turned his body back towards the ocean, his hands on the balcony railing, while Maka leaned against it facing away from the city. "I dunno," The white haired teen chuckled. "You still should've knocked." He looked at her, a playful glint in his wine colored eyes. If they were different people, this would be a romantic moment between the two, the boy smiling wistfully at his love, the girl returning said smile.

Maka sighed.

But they were not different people.

The blonde scythe meister, grazed her hand on her weapon's cheek. "I know what you're doing, Soul." Her eyes bore into his own, their souls confronting each other, something that frightened the young Evans in the beginning of their partnership. "What's wrong?"

Soul's mood immediately dropped. He was good with pushing Maka's buttons, the banter was distracting, it helped him forget that his brother could be an _intrusive asshole_. He crossed his arms on the balcony railing, resting his head on said limbs. "N'thin" he mumbled.

There were many ways that this scenario could have gone. Maka could have left him alone to mope. She could have argued with him. She could've said nothing and just stayed by him till he felt compelled to talk. Out of all things to happen, he didn't expect for her to suddenly get very acquainted with his face space. Their noses bumped into each other and Soul isn't sure if he imagined their lips grazing for a split second. The tall, lanky man shot up quickly, almost tumbling over his own feet. Maka, however, did not stop there. She was still incredibly close and Soul was kind of terrified. What was she doing? He slowly backed away from her, but the meister matched him step for step. Then, Soul was falling and his back met the fluffy white sheets of the king sized bed. Maka stood at the foot of the bed, her arms crossed and her eyes glinting.

For once, the petite meister towered over the tan, white haired boy and he was very sure that he was close to shitting his pants.

"Maka, what the hell?!" He asked out of shock.

"What's. Wrong," she demanded, in that meister voice of hers. It was very hard for Soul to resist answering immediately. However, he did understand her frustration. He did just kind of ditch her and left her to the wolves.

Soul raised his hands placatingly and his partner relaxed slightly, the glittering lights of the city the only source of illumination allowing the scythe to see his meister's glare (though he could feel it all the same). "Would you just, sit down and tone down the meister act?" He asked, annoyed and feeling vaguely defeated.

Maka's glare lingered before she sat closely to her weapon on the large bed. Soul merely sighed before gruffly stating a simple,"The asshole tricked me."

"What?" Maka asked confusedly, before realization dawned upon her. "Who, Wes?"

"Yeah," answered Soul weakly.

"How do you mean?"

"I had no idea about this reunion. I don't even _remember_ the last reunion I've been to."

There was a beat of silence between the two. Soul groaned and shoved his palms into his eyes.

"I thought someone was _dead_ , Maka," he scoffed, exasperated. "He made me think someone was dead and used that as an excuse to get me to come here." The aggravated young man suddenly sprung up and began to pace. "I _told him_ to let me do shit at my own pace, but no fuck Soul's feelings, right?"

Maka grabbed his hand mid-pace and his heated glare snapped to their connected hands before he relaxed his hunched shoulders.

"I'm trying, Maka. _I really am_." He sounded so helpless, they had worked so hard and Soul felt like he was back at square one again. Maka raised herself from her seated position and wrapped her arms around her tower of a weapon.

"I know you are, Soul." The weapon crushed his meister to his chest and the two stayed like that for a while before Maka moved her head to look up at her weapon.

"Soul," she began, "I know you may not have been exactly excited to see your family, but you were so worried about them this whole time we've been here. During the mission, you were so tense because you didn't want anyone in your family to be hurt."

Soul's eyes widened, "I didn't say any-"

"I kind of put two and two together." She smirked at him.

Of course she would.

"Now, you're here. Now, you know that they are okay. And you know that they've missed you, and they were so excited to see you," she finished, smiling sweetly at him.

Soul let out a deep breath. She was right (as always). "Yeah. I just wish I didn't have to be tricked into thinking that someone _died_ in order for me to be here." The teen muttered grumpily.

The blonde giggled, "Yeah, that was kind of a dickish move."

Soul looked down at her and chuckled, "Was that vulgar language coming from your mouth, Maka Albarn?" He scolded her jokingly. "You are among the elite, no such language is acceptable nor will it be tolerated!"

Maka barked out a short laugh, "Oh, but leaving your partner to the mercy of your family is perfectly fine?"

Now, _that_ was a dickish move. Soul moved one of his arms from around her waist and meekly scratched the back of his neck.

"You seemed fine with Wes, thought he would take care of you," the sheepish boy muttered, his eyes low and looking anywhere but at the woman in front of him.

Maka nudged her forehead against his chin before her electrifying eyes met Soul's own.

"You seemed fine with Wes, thought he would take care of you," the sheepish boy muttered, his eyes low and looking anywhere but at the woman in front of him.

Maka nudged her forehead against his chin before her electrifying eyes met Soul's own.

"I would've been better with you." She smiled warmly and nuzzled into his chest.

Soul shivered slightly and prayed that she didn't feel it.

She removed herself from his embrace, reaching down for the scythe's warm, large hands.

"Okay, dorkasaurus rex," the lithe blonde teased. "Let's get out of here before anyone gets suspicious."

She began to walk towards the door but then Soul pulled her back, grabbing her by the arms to steady her in her suede heels. He wrapped her arm around his own and lead her towards the balcony.

"Can we just…" he swept an unruly strand behind her ear, "chill out here for a little longer?"

Maka stared at him, entranced by her partner's relaxed disposition and the openness in his red eyes.

 _A little while longer? Maybe just for a few more minutes, surely they would not be sorely missed._

She smiled brightly at him, "Sure."

* * *

An hour or so later, the two finally made their way back down the stairs. The partners got caught up admiring the scenery and Maka was very interested in Soul's time in France and was happy that he was finally opening up about his past to her. There was no way she was going to miss stories of a little Soul roaming around the streets of Cannes and causing a ruckus.

Wes was the first to catch sight of the two. "Oh, there you two are!" He greeted them happily. "Well, you two were certainly gone for a while." The older Evans winked at Soul. The younger Evans barely held in a groan and resisted rolling his eyes.

Maka only nodded, "Yeah, we had a really nice talk." She looked up at Soul, her smile warm.

Wes lifted his eyebrows, intrigued by the loving look that Maka threw at his little brother.

"Ohhhhhhhh, I'm sure you did~" The blue eyed man retorted, his eyes alight with mischief.

Soul's hand met his face.

Great.

Now, his brother thought he and his meister were a thing.

He'd never hear the end of this.


	3. That Time When Wes Visits

So, here's the third installation of my pride and joy. Thanks to K for looking it over and to sweetprincesspeach for RUINING EVERYTHING. Dedicated to makapedia, the salty angel she is.

* * *

 ** _That_** _**one time Wes dropped by to embarrass Soul because he missed**_ _ **their**_ _ **bi-weekly call. He brings family photo albums. Maka learns that Soul was a very chubby baby thanks to Nan's cannolis.**_

After the most embarrassing visit of the _century_ (and Soul wondered why Maka always called him a drama queen) and the Evans family reunion from hell, Soul didn't really want to speak to any of his family for a while. So, he didn't call Wes for their bi-weekly talk. For one, Soul was still upset with him for tricking him to going to the reunion and two, he had already seen his brother and talked to him, _in person,_ barely a week ago _._ He saw no need to call him.

Soul was understandably _pissed the fuck off_ when his beloved older brother decided to "pop" in _at seven o'clock in the morning on a Saturday._

The annoying pittering on the door was what woke him and as he grumbled "what the fuck do you want?", the young Evans brother had to restrain himself from slamming the door shut, if only for the sake of his sleeping meister ,whose warm embrace he was forced to leave.

"Hello, little brother!" Wes said cheerfully, his blue eyes bright and awake.

"No, no, _no, please why._ _Why are you heereee?_ " Soul whined weakly while leaning heavily against the door, unwillingly giving Wes an opening to enter the apartment.

"What?" The slightly shorter man asked innocently. "A man can't visit his kid brother?"

"Not a kid anymore, bro," Soul grumbled as he closed the door, silently accepting the fact that he would just have to deal with his asshat of a brother for the rest of his life.

"Ah, yes," Wes sighed dramatically as he made his way to the kitchen. "Eighteen, the tender age of manhood. You're growing up so fast, my little brother."

"You literally have to look up at me."

"Only slightly."

Soul moved away from the door, glad that at least Wes didn't come over with any luggage. He didn't know if he could handle having his brother live with him… for however long he decided to stay in Death City. What the hell was he doing in Nevada, anyway?

... _Wait..._

"How did you even find me?" Soul asked suddenly, because, really _how had he found him_? This kind of took Wes from being annoying, older brother to creepy, stalkerish brother that he might have to file a restraining order against.

"Are you kidding me?" His creepy brother asked incredulously. "Remember when you used to only send letters to me?"

This was true. Though his family knew where Shibusen was located, he definitely did not want any unwanted guests at his apartment during his training. So, he only communicated with Wes through the U.S. Postal system.

"I never put a return address," Soul stated bluntly.

"Didn't have to," Wes said simply, rummaging through the cabinets for a coffee mug. It was quite early in the morning, a man needed his white chocolate mocha cappuccino drizzled in caramel.

Soul stared silently at the lunatic that he reluctantly called his brother. "You tracked me?!"

"Well, how else did you think Nan knew where you lived?"

Soul could only groan. It was official. His brother was bat-shit crazy and Soul had no way of escape.

"Soooo…" his annoying nuisance of a brother began, "Why didn't you tell me you and Maka were a thing?"

Okay. Yup. That's it. Nope. He couldn't do this. Wes needed to go, or Soul needed to get away from him. _Why did his brother have to be such a little shit?_

"We're not!" The quickly reddening man shrieked.

"Yeah." Wes chuckled, cooling off his some how already made cappuccino. ' _When the hell did he do that?'_ "Uh-huh. Suuuuure."

It was only seven in the morning. Why did God hate him and why had death evaded him so? Soul walked over to the kitchen area, abandoning his space at the door when he realized that his wish for this to be a short, quick visit was not going to come true.

"Would you just tell me what the hell you are doing here?" Soul asked bluntly as he settled himself on the round table directly across from the kitchen counter, more than sick of his older brother's twisted games.

"Oh…" Wes began, sounding offended, raising himself from his seated position on the counter ( _Great, Now Soul had to bleach the area to get his brother's ass germs off of it)._ "So, Nan can stop by at anytime but I can't?"

"Yes!" Soul exclaimed "She's Nan!"

"And what am I?" Wes asked, sounding very hurt for someone who decided that seven am was an appropriate time to visit _anyone, ever._

"Not Nan," Soul retorted dryly.

The two bickering siblings hadn't noticed the growing volume of their spat and were caught unaware when they heard a certain meister open the door.

Soul's bedroom door.

People really needed to stop dropping by when they were asleep, especially when they were sleeping in the same bed (which was almost all the time). It gave off the wrong impression.

Wes threw a smug look at Soul before arranging his face into a charming smile.

"What's going on out here?" Maka grumbled. She was usually a morning person, but really? It was a Saturday and she had to deal with Soul's family and a shitty mission earlier last week; she more than deserved the rest. It didn't help that Blair had returned from her trip with the Chupa Cabra witches last night and found it necessary to _go over every detail_ of her vacation. Maka's not even sure what time she went to bed.

"Oh, hello, Maka!" Wes waved happily. "It's so nice to see you again!"

"Wes?" Maka questioned, before walking into the kitchen where the two siblings were. "What are you doing here?"

"Yeah, Wes. _What are you doing here?_ " Soul growled.

Maka punched him in the arm."Don't be rude, Soul."

Wes chuckled, earning the blonde man a dark glare from his younger brother. "Oh, I just came in to check on my brother." Wes could barely contain himself when he caught sight of Soul's bewildered look. It was way too much fun messing with him. "I'm actually here for a little business as well! My flight landed earlier than expected and I just wanted to pop in before going to a meeting." The older man explained pleasantly.

"Oh, will you be staying long?" Maka asked innocently.

Say no. Say no. _Please, Death for the love of everything sane and good please let him be leaving today._

"I'm actually staying for about a week. Five days to be exact!"

Why did God hate him?

"Oh, good! Well, hopefully you can stop by for lunch or dinner sometime!" Maka replied, happily.

"Oh, certainly! That would be a treat, I would love to taste your cooking, Maka," Wes said charmingly.

Maka blushed.

God must _abhor_ Soul.

"Well, I don't really do most of the cooking around here." The tiny blonde looked up at her weapon and lightly elbowed his ribs teasingly. "That's really more of Soul's department."

Dear, Death just take him now.

"Oh, really?" The suited man looked at his sibling, surprised, before his face broke out into a grin. "Well, he did always spend a considerable amount of time in the kitchen with Mom and Nan, who would've known anything would stick?"

Soul wanted to melt into the ground, why were there so many people hell bent on embarrassing him?

"He's quite good!" Maka tittered. "I really hate when it's my turn to cook. I really like seeing him in his frilly apron and baking lasagna.~"

"MAKA!" The already blushing boy shrieked."What the hell?!"

"What?" The meister argued. "It's true!"

Wes couldn't help but to laugh loudly, doubled over and barely able to support himself on the counter due to the power of his giggles.

This was going to be a long five days.

* * *

Soul was going to lose his fucking mind.

One more day.

 _One more fucking day_ and Wes would be on a plane and far away from both him and Maka.

Thank Jesus fuck.

Soul loved his brother. Wes was his rock when his parents were on his case about his progress in piano classes. Wes was the one who helped him make friends as a kid, because Soul was an anxious little fuck who desperately wanted to connect to the people around him. Wes helped him sneak snacks back to his room, because Wes was taller and could actually reach the snack cabinet. He was the best big brother a little Soul could ask for.

But now? Wes was just an annoying shithead who didn't know how to mind his own damn business.

During his stay, Soul's older brother became very acquainted with the apartment, coming by almost everyday to eat lunch and/or dinner and sometimes he dropped by to make himself some coffee. And if that wasn't annoying enough, Wes and Maka were becoming _very familiar_ with each other.

A chorus of laughter erupted from the living room.

They were in there right now, laughing at pictures of Soul as a baby, while grown up Soul sulked in his room because he was pathetic and had a crush on his meister who might have the hots for his brother.

But, really, what else was he supposed to expect?

And he knew he was blowing things out of proportion as Billie Holiday croons in his ear about a gloomy Sunday, he _knew_ Maka and he knew his brother would never try to intentionally take Maka away from him. Soul also knew that Maka wasn't his to keep and he couldn't help thinking, ' _What if?'_

What if Maka finally realized that despite all the work that they've put in together, _he would never be good enough for her?_

Even worse, _What if Wes was?_

As Soul's stomach turned in turmoil and his head fogged up with the possibilities of _Wes and Maka_ , the scythe meister knocked politely on his door.

"What?" He grumbled grumpily as he removed one earplug, the sound muffled by his pillow. _Death,_ he was such a fucking loser.

"Hey, Soul?" Maka called through the door. "Can I come in?"

Soul sunk himself deeper into his pillows before answering, "Yeah. Sure. If you want."

Maka opened the door enough to slip through and closed it behind her.

"You feeling okay?"

"Yeah," Soul answered quietly, his back facing towards her. "I'm fine."

Maka looked at him with concern, noticing the depressed tone of his voice.

"Are you sure?" She asked, trying to see if he would want her help in anyway.

"Yeah," he answered bluntly.

"Okay." She reached for the doorknob, opening slightly before stopping. She turned around, her hand still on the door. "Everyone's going over to hang out at Black*Star and Tsubaki's place, wanna come?" Maka asked innocently, in a last ditch effort to brighten her partner's mood which seemed to sour by the minute, or rather the longer his brother was in town.

"All of us cramped up in that tiny ass apartment?" Soul replied snarkily. "No, thanks."

Maka's figure deflated. She wanted her partner to be happy but she didn't want to push him away from her, not when they had worked so hard for the past six years to be as close as they were.

"Do you want me to stay here with you or-?"

 _Yes._ "Nah." He cut her off. _Why the fuck did he always do this why did he always push her away at the times he wanted her closest? He thought he was doing so well._ "You go on. Tell me all about it later."

She tried hard not to sound disappointed, he could tell. "Okay," she sighed. "Feel better."

He only furrowed deeper into himself, the click of the door shutting echoed throughout the small room.

Well, at least he wouldn't have to deal with his brother if he was locked up in his room.

Not even two minutes later, Soul heard a series of annoying knocking at his door and his meister shriek, "I don't think you should-!" before his door bursted open, presenting his older brother, a look of worry written all over his face.

"Soul?" He asked. "What's wrong?"

Soul groaned. He didn't need this shit, especially not from _him._ "Could you just leave me the fuck alone?"

"Wes, I think-" Maka interluded.

"Don't worry, Maka. I got this. He used to act like this all the time at home."

Yes, but this wasn't Connecticut, or New York City, or Maine, where he had no friends and a suffering social life. He just wanted to be _left alone for fuck's sake._

But this was Wes.

"C'mon little bro." The blonde man nudged his shoulder. "Why don't you keep Maka some company?"

"She's literally going over to see our friends."

Wes paused, surprised at the caustic tone of his little brother's voice, but continued to push on.

"What if I went with you? Would you go then?" This always helped Soul when he was younger. Yes, he missed quite a chunk of his brother's life both due to boarding school and Soul attending Shibusen, but they were still brothers. They still knew each other.

"You're not gunna leave me alone about this are you?" Soul grumbled and rolled over into a seated position.

"Nope." Wes smiled brightly, popping the "p".

"Fine."

Soul grabbed his jacket, shoved past both his brother and Maka, and sulkily walked out of the apartment.

Wes always got what he wanted.

* * *

His friends loved him.

Of course they would. He was _Wes_. Everyone loved him.

Though Tsubaki and Black*Star had clearly outgrown their apartment (especially since Black*Star's growth spurt and puberty in general), the two had still decided to live together and continue partnership.

But, that didn't mean that this place was in any way shape or form able to hold _twelve_ full grown bodies. Soul was smushed up against his brother on one of the teeny couches in the living space, and clearly, the older blonde still hadn't learn what personal boundaries were. The deathscythe couldn't complain too much though, because he had Maka at his side and she was almost in his lap. The closeness between weapon and meister seemed to balm the crippling insecurities about being his brother's lesser half. Soul began to think that he might just be able to survive the evening.

"I'm having such a great time with you all!" Wes exclaimed loudly, followed by cheers from most of Spartoi (Kid had to stay behind, being a Death God was a full time job.). Wes then laughed boisterously while gesturing towards his brother, "Can you believe that Soul didn't even want to come here, tonight?" The blonde man ruffled through his sibling's white hair, "Guess you still need your big brother to make friends, huh?" Wes asked teasingly.

Fuck him.

Soul was furious. Where the fuck did Wes come off saying shit like that? Where was he his first day at the school for weapons and meisters? Where was he when he met Maka? Became _partners_ with Maka? Hell, someone explain to him how the most introverted soul in this school became close friends with an idiot that always yelled and challenged God? Fuck Wes. This, this friendship, the life he made here in Death City? That was Soul. Not Wes. If there was one person he would thank for hammering down his walls, it would be, was, and always will be, Maka.

The rest of the group laughed awkwardly (Wes's comment was more than a bit insensitive.), sensing the tension between Soul and his brother.

"I gotta take a piss."

The white haired teen got up suddenly, abruptly removing his arm from around Maka, causing her to thud into the seat of the couch. Wes lightly grabbed his elbow, laughing at him to take a joke, little brother.

"Get the fuck off me," Soul hissed. Wes released his grip immediately. The older Evans brother had never heard him talk to him like that before. Soul always acted like Wes was a nuisance but this was the first time that Wes began to think that maybe he had gone too far.

* * *

When they got home, it took everything in Soul to not slam the door in his brother's face.

Soul stood as far away from Wes as possible, making it very clear just how _pissed_ he was. He barreled into the kitchen, flung the refrigerator door open and forcefully took out the milk carton, drinking straight out of it. He slammed the fridge door as he crushed the now empty half gallon. Maka, the poor girl, was too surprised to scold Soul for his behavior, both because he abandoned doing things like that a long time ago and it was _very_ rare for Soul to show his anger so blatantly. Obviously, the two Evans brothers had some talking to do.

"Well," Maka's words cut through the palpable silence. "Since, Soul drank the rest of the milk, I'll go get some more." With that and a stern "Behave." Maka walked out the door, the sound of the door closing echoed throughout the apartment.

The silence was unbearable and charged with negativity.

Wes, for the first time in his life, had fucked up.

And Soul was going to _let him have it._

"Um," The older man began nervously, keeping his space and standing by the door. The look his brother threw at him was almost unrecognizable, his red eyes swirling with anger and hurt and it was all just too much at once. "Did I do something wrong?"

Soul chuckled lowly, " _Did you do something wrong_?" The taller man huffed and steadied his breathing, trying his hardest to stay calm. "What the fuck? Did you really just fucking ask me that?"

So much for trying to stay calm.

"Is everything alright?" Wes asked wearily.

"Is everything alright?" Soul could feel himself losing it, his brother was just so _fucking dense_. " _Is everything alright?_ What the fuck is your problem?!"

"What? Soul, I'm not understa-" and Soul erupted, cutting off his brother, years of bottled up insecurities and _five days_ of his brother just shitting on everything he worked so hard for, finally rushing from Soul like a bursting dam.

"You fucking show up at people's doorstep and just expect them to drop _every little single thing for you_."

"Now, that is not true Soul-"

"And fucking eat up all our food, you get all cozy with my meister!"

"I was just trying to be nice!" Wes argued.

"Would you just shut up for once?!" Soul shrieked incredulously. He was so over this shit, so over his brother. Why couldn't things just work out for him?

Another tense silence fell between the two siblings. Wes was on the verge of tears. He had never argued with his brother before, _never_. He always tried his best to accommodate Soul and Soul never questioned his actions, it was always the two of them against the world.

Had that changed?

Soul took a deep breath, several actually. Fuck this, fuck this in every way possible.

"I've had to live my whole entire life in your shadow up until a few years ago." Fuck. This was hard. Soul gripped the counter, his knuckles a pale white in comparison to his tan skin.

"What?" Wes began, barely stepping away from the door space, "Soul, I never wanted-"

"I know you never wanted me to feel that way, but you can't always help what you feel." Soul removed himself from the counter, staring directly at his brother. "And I know you can't always help how you are but Jesus, Wes."

"I'm sorry."

Soul paused for the barest of seconds. Wes never had to apologize to him because _Wes was never at fault._ Death, it had to be hard growing up as the literal embodiment of perfection. "You gotta respect my boundaries if this thing is gonna work out. I know you want me to get back in touch with the family, I know you want our relationship to get better but, fuck you're coming at it from all the wrong angles." Soul sighed exasperated, the memories of this week returning anew.

Wes nodded jerkily. Soul really hoped his brother wouldn't cry. The scythe remembered the summer before Wes left for boarding school and how he cried for days on end because a junior boy at the local high school had rejected him.

"This isn't going to be instantaneous," Soul continued. "I'm not just gonna hop back into the 'norm' of things just to have my self-esteem fucked over. I've worked too hard and Maka worked _way too_ hard with me." _She still is._

"I mean fuck, Wes." The white-haired man sighed. "You tricked me into going to a family reunion. You made me think someone _died_ ," he finished somberly, trying to emphasize the shittyness of it all.

"I never said anyone died, per-" Wes tried to defend, weakly.

"It was still fucked up."

Wes's blue eyes filled with water, his tears spilling over. Even when Wes cried he looked perfect.

"Fuck," Soul groaned. "I didn't fucking sign up for this shit."

Soul moved over to his brother, who still stood by the door. The deathscythe rubbed his back as his brother sobbed silently. Wes grabbed onto the material of his younger brother's jacket, and weeped openly onto his shoulder.

"Fuck." Soul muttered, as his own eyes misted over.

His jacket was going to get ruined.

* * *

"Remind me before I leave to thank Maka." The two siblings had now gravitated towards one of the couches in the living room area and Wes was leaning against Soul. A lot of talking had happened and a lot of tears were involved. Soul was a whole new person, a blooming adult with preferences that Wes was going to have to learn to respect. Wes loved his brother and would do anything for him, including giving him the space that he needed. "I don't know what she did, but she did a great job."

"Yeah, yeah whatever." Soul waved him off, shoving Wes off with a laugh. Getting along with his brother was nice, he liked it.

"And bro, seriously," Wes began, a mischievous glint in his striking blue eyes. "You need to get on that. Maka's a great girl but-"

"Wes." Soul cut him off dryly. "Boundaries."

"Right." Wes nodded. "Boundaries." A slight pause came between the two before Wes poked his younger brother in the ribs, an annoying habit he used to do when he wanted Soul to confess to something. "But still-"

"I'm working on it!" Soul exclaimed. The two fell into an easy laughter.

No, this process wouldn't be easy, but he was going through it with his brother, the one who accepted him from the beginning.

* * *

When Maka returned from the supermarket in town (even though they lived right next to a convenience store), she found the two brothers in the kitchen, making some of the best smelling coffee her nose had the pleasure of sniffing.

The tiny blonde meister smiled.

If it took Soul and Wes bonding over their love of ridiculously made lattes to fix their relationship, so be it. At least this way, she'd have no need for a Keurig.

After Wes' visit Soul put a reminder on his phone to call his Nan and his brother, weekly and bi-weekly respectively. This was an emotional roller coaster he definitely did not want to ride again.


	4. That Time When Nan Learned How to Text

Ah, so this one took a while, but here we are again with more Evans family shenangins~ Major thanks to both K and Ness for being wonderful and looking this over for me! Also this one is dedicated to Wings whose birthday was on Friday!

 **That one time Nan learns how to text (thanks to Wes) and begins regularly texting both Maka and Soul.**

* * *

Everything had been going well. Soul and Wes were talking and rebuilding their relationship. Nan called every week to check up on her grandson and his meister. His mom still desperately wanted to see him (and plans for a visit were in the making), and Maka and Soul were kicking evil's ass as per usual.

He was finally starting to get along with his family. Soul was happy. Everything was fine.

"Hey, Soul?" Maka called out. "Do you know anyone whose number starts with 001-3?"

Everything was fine… until Nan learned how to text.

"What…?" Soul walked over to Maka, leaving dinner to simmer in a pan, "That sounds like Nan." he sat next to her on their couch and read the little blue blurb on Maka's cellphone.

 _'Ciao, amore mio~ :D'_

"That's definitely Nan," Soul muttered. "How the hell did she get your number?"

"Hmm? Oh, I gave it to her! She called once while you were taking a nap." Maka smiled innocently. _What had the poor girl gotten herself into?_ "We kind of just fell into pleasant conversation and I gave her my number so she could call me whenever she couldn't get a hold of you."

Soul's heart swelled. His grandmother and his meister were getting along and talking on a regular basis; it was something out of the sappy scythe's dreams.

However, there was still one thing that confused Soul.

"How did she figure out how to text?"

Maka shrugged. "I dunno. Doesn't really matter, I'm gonna text her back! What should I say?" Maka looked up at him (damn him and his height), her green eyes bright and imploring.

"Uhhhhh." Soul held his chin, pretending to think before replying sarcastically. "'Hello', maybe?"

"Ugh, you're no help." She waved him off as she turned her attention back to her phone, trying to conjure up an appropriate message to send Nan. So what if they have been talking on the phone non-stop for the past few weeks? She still had to give off a good impression!

Soul smiled wistfully as he walked back to the kitchen to finish cooking dinner.

They were just too cute. The image of his sweet, adorable Nan trying to figure out the tiny print on her touch screen phone (that Wes had bought her last Christmas, even though Soul argued that maybe a less high tech phone would be better for their grandmother. He would never forget the pain of her manicured nails digging into his earlobe and her shouting in Italian, " _Are you trying to call me old, Soul_?") just made him all warm and fuzzy inside.

Right now, Soul wasn't worried. Yeah it was Nan, but it was also _Nan_. She couldn't cause any more damage than she already had when she visited.

Everything would be fine.

Soul should stop underestimating how embarrassing his family could be, especially _Nan_.

* * *

Nan was a pure, unadulterated magician.

"How does she text so fast?" His grandmother had taken to texting him almost everyday along with their weekly calls. The elderly woman would send him funny pictures of cats and rabbits (don't judge him) when he was sad and send him recipes of her dishes when he was craving her cooking. But Soul could barely type out a word before his Nan had already sent a huge paragraph describing her day.

And don't even get him started on Maka.

It was like being in his own personal hell. Maka would snicker as she texted Soul's Nan and would refuse to answer the pouting scythe about what the hell she found so funny. The meister would only grin smugly and say, "Nothing, _polpetto._ " in a _terrible_ Italian accent. Soul didn't know what was worse, Maka's horrible attempt at Italian or Nan stuffing his meister with story after story of young Soul.

"Soul?" Maka called through his closed door.

"Yeah?" He answered, removing his headphones and allowing smooth Italian jazz to softly spill from the speakers. "Come on in, the door's open."

Maka entered, phone in hand, a confused expression spread across her visage.

"Nan sent something to me that was meant for you by accident," she said as she motioned him to scoot over, taking her rightful place on the left side of the bed. "It's in Italian." She added huffily. She was starting to understand why Soul would get so peeved when she would speak to Tsubaki in Japanese for most of their conversations.

A look of confusion then found its way to his face. Why would Nan do that? It wasn't like they were texting at the moment, (the one rare time where his phone wasn't blowing up with stories about her noisy neighbor Florence) so why would she accidentally send Maka a message meant for him?

Soul took Maka's phone from her and quickly glanced at the most recent message before he scrolled up and wait, was that something about him crying? _What?_ Soul's face immediately lost all color. She _didn't._

"Hey! Stop scrolling through our messages!" Maka shrieked, reaching over to grab the phone. "Just read the last thing!"

Soul couldn't believe what he was reading right now. Nan was retelling, _in full detail_ , the story of his first kiss.

It hadn't gone well.

At all.

Soul was eight and thought that only grown ups who loved each other and got married kissed, so when the feisty seven year old daughter of a famous cellist smashed her lips with his, Soul was reasonably upset. He ran crying to his older brother about how he didn't want to marry this girl. He _didn't even know her_ , why would she kiss him? Young Soul was sure that his life was ruined, forced to be married and he hadn't even hit puberty yet.

Then the Evans' youngest got the idea to shove a whole bar of soap into his mouth to wash away the kiss.

It took his mother, Nan, and Wes to hold the wiggly little boy down and keep him from doing such a thing. Eventually, Nan was able to convince him that mouthwash was a much stronger and better solution for getting rid of the remnants of the girl's cooties.

Soul brushed his teeth extra hard that night, just in case.

"I don't know whether to feel betrayed or embarrassed." Both did nicely, if he was being honest.

"Oh, quiet you!"

He scrolled up only to find even more messages about him and the idiotic things he did in his youth.

"Is this what you two do? Share dumb stories about me?"

"Will you just read the last message?" Maka asked exasperated, frustrated at Soul's long limbs and his ability to play keep away so well.

"That's it," Soul stated firmly. "I'm never baking for you again."

"Soul, please no!" Maka exclaimed, pure fear drove into her heart. Was he really _that_ upset? "Please, I'm sorry."

"How could you, Maka?" Soul asked her dramatically, a chuckle hidden in his throat. "Now, all my baking skills will go to waste and we can never enjoy sweets again."

"Oh my death, I'll make it up to you! I promise!" Maka groaned, feigning annoyance once she realized that he was mostly messing around with her. "Just read the last message, please!"

He grinned widely at her, his teeth poking at his lip, the tiniest bit (there were just certain things Maka shouldn't find attractive, but _death damn_ ) before scrolling down to the latest message in their conversation.

He should really stop being so surprised at his Nan's antics by now.

She even had the nerve to put a winky face emoji at the end of her message.

"Well, Soul?" Maka asked, a bit impatiently. "What does it mean?"

He was kind of getting sick of this whole "Let's shove Maka at Soul and make them make out" game that every single person in his life seemed to be playing. And Death, why did Nan have to be _so blunt?_

 _'_ _I bet Soul wouldn't have minded so much if the girl was you, Maka. I bet Soul would love to marry and kiss you ;D'_

"Soul?"

Said scythe had to stop himself from jumping ten feet in the air. His face was several shades of red and he was clutching on to the mobile device for dear life.

What could he tell her? " _Oh, don't worry, Maka. Nan just wants us to get married and make out and give her cute great-grandbabies. Need me to translate anything else for you?"_

"I know both of our names are in it, but that doesn't tell me much," Maka continued, hoping that it would shake Soul out of… whatever he was in.

Soul cleared his throat loudly and rubbed his neck, "Um, yeah." He coughed once more, "She just wanted to tell me that she thinks you're a great person and that I better be treating you right."

That was okay, right? It wasn't entirely a lie, Nan always told him that.

Maka gave him a look, the one where she wasn't completely sure if Soul was telling her the truth or not. She decided to just let it go and look up the phrase on google translate later if it really bugged her that much.

"Oh...okay!" Maka smiled brightly. "Awww, that's so sweet of her!" A smug grin slipped onto her face. "I guess now you have to make me sweets or else I'll tell Nan that you're being a bad weapon."

Soul sputtered out in laughter, caught up in the hilarity of both the unintentional _horrible_ innuendo and her incredibly weak threat.

"Please," he scoffed, "you like having me around _waaaaaay_ to much to do that to me."

Maka tapped her chin in thought, "Hmm, I dunno~"

"Wait, Maka please don't text her that, she'll rip my ear off," Soul stated in all seriousness, he feared for the state of his earlobes.

She nudged him playfully. "I'm just kidding, you dork."

He sighed in relief. The two fell into an easy silence, the music from his headphones creating background noise in the bedroom.

"But you're right."

"Hmm?"

She reached out for his hand, her fingers grazing his own."I do like having you around. A lot." She gazed up at him through her lashes, her green eyes warm and alluring.

It was then again that Soul was reminded of how in love he was with this amazing woman he called his meister.

Either her face was getting closer or he was moving towards her, but he could _swear_ that he felt their lips skim across each other before his phone began to blare and vibrate loudly.

Soul snatched his phone from his back pocket, glancing at the lock screen to read the new message he apparently received from his grandmother.

 _'JUST KISS HER ALREADY!'_

 _"_ _Ohmyfuckingdeath_ what the fuck, **whatthefuck?!**

"Soul?" Maka asked, concerned. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing." That wasn't right. "Don't worry about it." Well, don't be a jerk, Soul.

He screamed silently.

"I'm gonna go start dinner now," he muttered grumpily, scrambling over her to get out of the room and away from the mobile device that ruined his once in a blue moon chance.

Nan was in so much trouble.

Maka watched as Soul almost tripped over himself to get out of the bed and into the kitchen. She sighed and flopped back onto the mattress.

He was such an idiot.


End file.
